


For You, My Sun

by fangirlandiknowit



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Ice mages, Light Angst, M/M, Mage viktor, Magical Creatures, Prince Yuuri, Secret Relationship, day 2: star-crossed, yoiroyaltyweek2018
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-18
Updated: 2018-08-19
Packaged: 2019-05-08 14:59:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 16,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14696565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fangirlandiknowit/pseuds/fangirlandiknowit
Summary: Yuuri, darling ice prince of Hasetsu, is not for him to gaze upon so greedily out in the open, and yet his eyes and heart and mind are constantly pulled towards him, void of any self-preservation.When a new threat appears on the horizon, Viktor chooses loyalty to the prince above all. However, it may only serve him additional heartbreak, as tradition dictates Yuuri marries the strongest ice mage in the country...And Viktor, much as he disagrees with it, is not an eligible candidate.





	1. A frozen light shines on us

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! I'm not dead, just veeeery close to finishing my thesis!! But I really wanted to post this for the yoi royalty week, even if it isn't finished yet. Once my thesis is over and done with I'll be able to update all my stories again though! 
> 
> This fic has been called "ice prince Yuuri au" as a working title, so some of you might recognize it. I'm a little late since it fits with the theme for day 2, but oh well. I've been dying to write this ever since the Yume 100 collab came out, so those are the outfits I'm going with in the story. 
> 
> Small explanation note for the chapter: so called "komainu" are a type of statues usually guarding entrances to shinto shrines in pairs. The name is often translated as "lion-dog" though it actually means "Korean dog". They're meant to ward off evil spirits, and in the story I use them as living beings instead. 
> 
> The rating is for later chapters. I hope you enjoy!! (ノﾟ∀ﾟ)ノ⌒･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*☆

The sound of hooves thundering against the hard-packed dirt ground of the main road is approaching, and Viktor directs a look towards the sky. He has a feeling who’s leading the group, and as much as he loves to gaze upon his beautiful face, Viktor really doesn’t want to deal with this right now.

He could leave, he supposes, but his magic lingers in the air and he wouldn’t get far anyway. As the riders close the distance Viktor makes a valiant effort to fluff his hair a bit and smooth down creases in his robes. They were most likely also drawn here by the dark magic seeping out of the dead komainu next to him; blobs of inky liquid oozing from its multiple wounds. He sighs, adjusting his heavy cloak to ward off the chilly breeze nipping at him. Ice and cold might be his friends but he still enjoys not freezing limbs off. The komainu always stick together two-and-two, but there’s no sign of the other half of the pair. Its fur is colored a pale green, the mane thick and bright red, a stark contrast to the snow-covered ground. Viktor doesn’t look at it more than he has to.

One by one the riders appear from behind the ridge of a small hill, the landscape north of the city all gently rolling hills and valleys leading into the mountains. Viktor’s heart shouldn’t lurch but it does, a painful throb against the inside of his ribs at the sight of an all too familiar figure among the group. Again he sighs, wishing there was a way he could look less like a suspicious figure standing by a dead national treasure, and a little more like a good prospect for marriage.

Alas, life is cruel and Yuuri’s dark eyes are steely as he halts his mount close enough that Viktor feels the warmth of its breath wash over his face.

“Your highness,” he smiles, patting the horse on its muzzle, pouting when it snorts loudly at him. “I didn’t think you’d be out for a leisure ride in this awful weather.”

“Hardly awful,” Yuuri says, swinging one elegant leg over his horse’s back and landing in the thin layer of snow on the ground. “What happened here?”

Viktor takes a moment to drink him in, his wind-swept dark hair framing his pretty face, lower lip pulled into his mouth as he surveys the damage. His cheeks have a pink tint to them, surely from the cold bite in the air, but Viktor can’t help but remember other, more pleasant occasions that have inspired such color on the prince’s face.

“Good question,” he replies a moment too late, Yuuri’s gaze narrowing on him for a second.

If he’s been caught staring he feels no shame. Throwing a look at the guards gathered in a half moon before them, he turns towards the poor creature lying on the ground.

“Dark magic is the obvious answer. The how or why is more difficult.”

“Viktor,” Yuuri sighs, and he could listen to the sound of his voice for eternity, as long as he keeps saying his name. “What are you doing here? I thought we had a deal.”

“Oh, we do? Must have slipped my mind.”

Yuuri frowns at him, working his mouth as if to remind him though no sound leaves his lips. Instead he turns to the guards accompanying him, delivering orders in quick, short sentences that inspire a flurry of activity. One guard zones in on Viktor, hopping off his horse and pulling out a thin piece of rope.

“Rope-play, your highness? At least let me take you out to dinner first.”

His comment is rewarded with silence, though the bright red spreading across cheeks and ears are impossible to miss. Viktor allows himself a small grin as he holds out his hands, the ever so agreeable prisoner. The komainu is closely examined even though Viktor could have told them all they needed to know. He _has_ however been declared an enemy of the state, so it’s not like Yuuri could have asked officially. Hence he stands quietly as the guards poke around, Yuuri muttering under his breath as his magic spreads out like a thin layer of frost.

Viktor has to avert his eyes before his chest becomes unbearably pained. Yuuri, darling ice prince of Hasetsu, is not for him to gaze upon so greedily out in the open, and yet his eyes and heart and mind are constantly pulled towards him, void of any self-preservation. He forces his focus to the guard holding the end of the rope he’s tied with, a young-looking man standing rigid, a thick scarf wrapped around his neck.

“It really is too cold outside, isn’t it?” Viktor asks in a pleasant tone, tilting his head in consideration. “I know _I’d_ rather be in front of a cozy fireplace right now.”

“Viktor, don’t tease my men,” Yuuri says distractedly, back towards him but close enough that Viktor could reach out and touch him if he stretched a bit.

He wishes Yuuri would say his name again. The guard eyes him curiously, quick to return to his rigid pose when Viktor meets his gaze. Rumor says Viktor is sculpted of ice, and only the hottest of fires could melt his cold, evil heart. Other rumors say that Viktor is as harmless as a puppy as long as Yuuri is nearby to keep him in check.

And sure, Yuuri is very skilled himself, but Viktor doesn’t need to be intimidated in order to sweetly follow his orders.

His poor, sappy heart is incentive enough.

Yuuri’s magic builds up, making the air vibrate with the sound of wind-chimes, crawling up Viktor’s arms and spine like a soft caress. His scepter glows a gentle blue, the light emanating from the crystals embedded in the delicately carved snowflake adorning it. The flow of dark magic ends as the liquid freezes, cracking loudly before splitting into tiny fragments that break the power infused in it. It looks simple but Viktor knows the effort behind it, can see the strain on Yuuri’s body as he lets go of the tension.

“We should get back,” Yuuri says, wiping sweat off his brow despite the cold temperature as he turns his head back to glance at Viktor. “And… do you mind?”

“Of course not, solnyshko.”

Yuuri rolls his eyes at the pet name, the irony of one ice mage calling another ice mage ‘little sun’ not lost on him. He knows better than to try and talk Viktor out of it. Again.

“I’ll have someone come pick it up later, we’ll do a proper examination at the castle.”

Nodding, Viktor waggles his fingers, a pointed tilt of his head towards the guard. Now, Viktor doesn’t _need_ his scepter for this, but he loves the fluster taking over Yuuri’s features, how he rushes over to untie the hard knots binding his wrists together.

“Missed you,” Viktor mumbles as he works on the knots, a small twitch to Yuuri’s hands the only indication that he’s heard him.

“If you would?” Yuuri clears his throat, fiddling with the white gloves covering his hands. “I’d do it myself but freezing things really is your specialty.”

“It is the greatest honor to be of service to the beloved ice prince of Hasetsu,” Viktor drawls, hands to his hips as he freezes the komainu solid without so much as a flutter of eyelashes, the magic enough to protect it from any curious passersby.

“You-“

Yuuri reels himself in, mouth a thin line that Viktor wants to touch until it melts into a smile.

“You didn’t need me to untie your hands.”

“As you should know.”

Closing his eyes, Yuuri seems to groan inwardly, and it takes all of Viktor’s willpower to keep his hands glued to his sides.

“Fine,” Yuuri sighs. “Let’s just get this over with.”

 

･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*☆

 

 _As far as prison cells go, this one is not too bad,_ Viktor muses as he sits on the narrow bed, chin resting on his bent knee. His only view is bare walls, the small window in the door shut closed over the bars. It’s not his first visit, and he wonders how long it will take until Yuuri comes down to try and talk some sense into him. He always does that, as if Viktor would change his mind.

His cape is neatly folded beside him, boots placed below it on the floor. It is at least warm and doesn’t smell bad, giving him a few hours of solitude he can spend thinking. Since he clearly doesn’t spend enough time doing just that already…

Squirming until he’s in a more comfortable position, Viktor’s thoughts immediately drift to Yuuri. It’s been over a month since he last saw him, but if anything he only grew more beautiful during that time. He’s come so far from the shy man Viktor met years ago, lost on a road to nowhere. His memories of Yuuri as a child are vague, because while the prince had always existed as a concept during his time at the castle, Viktor had been busy with all his training under Yakov and the various duties bestowed upon him, of which very few related to the prince. And then–

Letting his head fall back against the stone wall, Viktor quells the sigh before it manages to escape his throat. There’s no use thinking of wasted opportunities; the present requires all his focus as it is. Yuuri might not want his help but Viktor will give it anyway, freely and willingly if only for his own peace of mind. The prince deserves better than some renegade ice mage wandering the world, and yet Viktor is helpless against his heart’s desire. It’s made worse by the fact that Viktor _knows_ him, knows exactly what he’s missing every single day, every hour of his lonely existence.

He knows Yuuri’s smile, knows his hands, shy at first but growing bolder with time. He knows Yuuri’s voice and his breath and his heartbeat, thumping steadily against the shell of his ear.

Viktor knows, also, that all of these are things he cannot have again, not in the way he wants to have them.

His depressing thoughts are interrupted by the sound of multiple locks sliding open, the door soon revealing Mila and some of her fellow security officers on the other side.

“If it isn’t my favorite prisoner,” she says, Viktor returning her smile with more cheer than he feels. “Haven’t seen you in a while, we almost got worried.”

“How sweet of you,” Viktor chirps, not yet moving. “I’m a little surprised to see you so soon after coming here, I was already fed, you know.”

“Yes, well.” Her red curls swish around her head as she tilts it, gaze trailing over Viktor’s casual form, the first few buttons on his shirt unbuttoned. “The prince has requested your presence in the council room. Do you need a minute to freshen up?”

Heartbeat quickening, Viktor masks his surprise with a languid smile.

“You think the prince wouldn’t appreciate seeing me like this?”

Mila laughs, eyes sparkling like the attempt at a joke was the funniest thing she’s heard in ages.

“The others might not share his appreciation,” she tells him, and Viktor’s heart sinks again.

“Will Christophe be there?” he asks as he pulls on his boots with haste, facing the floor so she won’t see his dark expression.

He knows Mila from _before_ , appreciates how casually she treats him, but he’d rather not have her see his true emotions.

“Might be,” she shrugs, casting an eye behind her at the others. “The meeting hasn’t started yet, so everyone wasn’t present when we got the order to fetch you.”

“ _Fetch_ me,” Viktor mutters. “What am I, his loyal servant?”

“Could have fooled me,” Mila teases, and Viktor heaves a sigh.

He’d rather not dwell on how he’d prefer to be a loyal servant over whatever he is currently. He claps his hands twice, a small poof filling the room before Makkachin jumps around his legs, tongue lolling out. The poodle familiar barks just once, circling him and sniffing eagerly, tail wagging.

“That’s right, Makka! We’ll go see Yuuri!”

She butts her head against his hand, demanding pets before rushing over to Mila and circling her, too.

“Hi Makkachin, oh yes, you’re such a good girl,” Mila coos at her, bending down to rub at her fluffy ears. “Alright, if you’re done we should get going.”

Viktor fastens his cloak, brushing imaginary dust off the fur trimming. He nods, following her out of the cell. The guards form a close circle around him, one of them securing metal cuffs around his wrists. He can’t help the amused smile playing on his lips at the action.

“I’m not going to cause any trouble,” he says, Mila flicking her hair at his words.

“You think I wouldn’t take you on if you did?”

“Oh, I’m sure you would.”

Mila is terribly strong, but she doesn’t possess any magic powers. Both she and Viktor know full well that mere walls can’t stop him from going wherever he wants, but he supposes they need to play this charade for appearances. Makkachin stays obediently by his side, panting in excitement as they walk through the castle corridors. People pause at the sight of them, wary of his presence. Viktor doesn’t have a reputation of being dangerous per se, but his amount of power is common knowledge.

If things had been as they should, Viktor would have been such a common sight within these walls he might as well have been part of the interior.

“How’s your wife?” he asks Mila when the silence feels too oppressive, people staring just a tad too much.

“Good, she’s good. I’m surprised you know we got married.”

She gives him a sly look, so he pretends to look at the tapestries along the walls. Yuuri had let it slip during the trek back to the city, filling him in on the past month’s gossip almost without prompting. He’d seemed nervous, mouth running so fast Viktor barely got the chance to reply. Maybe he’d thought Viktor would blow their cover, but then why would he invite Viktor to some kind of official meeting? Usually Viktor would sit and do nothing for a few hours until Yuuri could manage an escape from his duties, and then Yuuri would come down to his cell to uselessly talk some sense into him before sending him on his way.

Except Viktor usually just went to Yuuri’s room, proceeding to spend the night murmuring sweet nothings into Yuuri’s bare skin, pouring his heart out in the safety of the dark. It was a routine they’d perfected over the years, though the break of dawn didn’t feel less cruel with time.

He’s not sure how many people suspect he and Yuuri are closer than they should be, but he’s glad that Mila doesn’t press the issue.

To be honest, he really _had_ intended not to bump into Yuuri today. He had been fully prepared to cover his tracks and continue to keep an eye on the strange occurrences of dark magic that have been popping up lately from afar, satisfied as long as Yuuri was safe and sound.

With Christophe.

Viktor shrugs the thought off, gritting his teeth. He has no right, no wish to complicate Yuuri’s life. All he has is his poor, suffering heart, beating for a man he can’t have. It’s a little pathetic, when he thinks about it while being herded like the prisoner he is through corridors he never thought would become estranged to him.

The council room is in the west wing, high up with a view of the sea. There’s a storm brewing outside, dark clouds gathering at the horizon. Viktor’s gaze catches on Yuuri rather than the floor-to-ceiling windows, the sight of him more breathtaking than any landscape could ever hope to be. Makkachin whines beside him, wanting to go to Yuuri and see if his familiar, little Vicchan, wants to play. Perhaps she seems to notice the tension in the room, sticking close to his side instead.

“This is unheard of,” someone mutters, and Viktor glances towards the oval-shaped table housing the present council members.

There’s Celestino, Yuuri’s old mentor, and Lilia of course, as well as a few faces Viktor doesn’t recognize. There is also the man who commented on his presence; Josef Karpisek, the bald and grumpy-looking mentor of Christophe. Coincidentally, he is also one of the people responsible for Viktor’s exclusion from the kingdom. They share a strong, mutual hatred for each other and Viktor makes sure to send him his most bland smile.

“I’m truly honored to be invited,” he tells the room, catching the slight twitch to Lilia’s mouth. “Surprised, but honored all the same.”

Josef huffs, but Viktor doesn’t want to look at him any longer than necessary. His eyes find Yuuri again, standing by the windows in his regal white and blue outfit. He’s biting his lower lip, staring resolutely at a chandelier hanging from the ceiling on the other side of the lavishly decorated room. Viktor has to wonder what could possibly be bad enough that Yuuri invites him to this meeting.

“There’s not an honorable bone in your body,” spits Josef, and the only reason Viktor bites back a retort is out of concern for Yuuri, whose face has turned white as a sheet.

He’s infinitely glad that Christophe isn’t here, because Viktor _likes_ Christophe, thinks of their time spent studying together with fondness, but this man… Viktor wouldn’t mind dropping him straight into the sea.

“I’ll have no such talk in this room,” Yuuri says, pulling himself up as if to remind the council members that he is, in fact, the _prince_. “Viktor is here at my request, as I told you already.”

“Perhaps the reminder is needed,” Lilia comments, voice as crisp and dry as it has been all of Viktor’s life. “Unless Josef here would like to be excused from this meeting?”

Suppressing a smile, Viktor cheers inwardly at the sour look on the man’s face. It’s good to know he’s not the only one who finds him unpleasant, though of course Viktor supposes that _technically_ it’s true that inviting a banned mage to a council meeting is frankly unheard of.

Either way Lilia’s age has done nothing to lessen the respect she holds as military commander, the few wrinkles on her face only adding dignity. He could swear she’s less pleased than usual, though.

“Viktor can confirm what I already told you about the komainu,” Yuuri continues as if the tension in the room isn’t thick enough to slice through. “Something needs to be done as soon as-“

“I told you,” Josef grunts, leaning back with crossed arms. “It’s clear that the Leroy kingdom is out for blood. I say we send an investigation overseas instead of up north.”

“They have made no such moves,” Lilia disagrees, and the other council members squirm a bit at the glare shared between them. “And besides, we have no one to spare for such a dangerous mission at the moment. The diplomatic implications alone…”

“Personally,” Viktor starts, ignoring how absolutely no one wants to know his opinion, “I don’t see what they’d gain by that. I’ve met James-Jacob-“

“Jean-Jacques,” Yuuri mumbles with a hint of a smile.

“Anyway, I’ve met him and he brags more about being on friendly terms with other kingdoms than any sort of power dynamics.”

“Rumor says they’re in financial trouble,” one of the other council members points out, eyes flickering between Josef and the rest.

“Ah yes,” Viktor says with an exaggerated sigh, “war certainly improves the state of the national treasury.”

He can’t help but pat himself on the back as Josef’s face grows increasingly red. Even Lilia can’t hide the amused twitch to her lips as she clears her throat.

“Either way, we have no mages available for a mission like that, either combat or non-combat ones. It’s too risky. Not to mention it’s storm season.”

“Which would only make it easier for him to hide an attack.” Josef throws a calculating look towards Yuuri, and something about it makes Viktor’s spine shiver. “Someone like the prince could surely manage, though.”

“You are treading on dangerous grounds,” Lilia says, voice cold as frost and eyes like steel. “The rest of the royal family is travelling, and you suggest sending the prince on a foolish mission based on rumors?”

“I was merely stating the facts.”

Viktor wishes he could walk up to Yuuri and place a comforting hand on his back. He’s surprised that Josef would be so upfront about this – surely he must know what it sounds like?

“Perhaps when they come back we can discuss this matter further,” Yuuri says, the trembling note in his voice betraying his discomfort. “And I’m hardly skilled enough for such a mission, anyway.”

If Viktor didn’t want to keep Yuuri safe by all possible means he’d disagree. Yuuri has a reserve of magic that few could ever dream of, though Viktor might still be more knowledgeable with spells and the like. Lilia nods and most other council members hum in agreement, and Viktor is just about to relax and prepare to retell his findings on the komainu when Josef speaks up again.

“Ah, but there is _someone_ , isn’t there?” he says, narrowing his eyes at Viktor. “Someone with no official ties to the kingdom, someone who is famous for avoiding capture and discovery.”

Viktor thinks he looks a little like a fat snake, or maybe a particularly unpleasant goblin. Either way he’d hate to put satisfaction on his face.

“Viktor is only attending this meeting for information gathering,” Yuuri replies, voice sharper now. “He answers to no one.”

“Oh?” Josef grins, and Viktor hates him a little more. “He hasn’t forgotten his debt though, has he?”

“If there’s a debt to the kingdom I haven’t been informed.”

Yuuri sounds so hot when he’s angry, Viktor can’t help but think. It’s much better when he’s angry at someone else, too. Still, there’s a sinking feeling in his gut that somehow they’ve walked right into a trap. All that’s left is for someone to run inside with some kind of proof that the rumors are real, and Viktor will be hard pressed to say no.

“Listen,” he says, too tired to beat around the bush. “I don’t like you and I certainly don’t trust you. You would rather send someone on a dangerous mission based on a rumor than actually investigate the fact that something up north is coming down to kill magical creatures. I might not like Josh Jared or whatever his name is either, but I doubt he has anything to do with all this.”

Silence falls, everyone staring at Josef. It’s no secret that the man doesn’t take well to disagreement, and he’s already been shot down once today. Viktor wonders if he pushed too far, if this is where their supposed truce ends. He does his best not to think about the past, preferring to bury it under more pleasant thoughts like the way Yuuri looks during sunset, smiling at him.

“I seem to recall that there is a price on your pretty little head,” Josef says, slowly, as if Viktor has trouble understanding. “It would be a shame if someone started thinking you were trying to influence the prince, wouldn’t it?”

Viktor bites back a reply, knowing he walked right into Josef’s carefully laid trap and there’s really no way out now. He doesn’t want to blame Yuuri – how could he ever? – but it was probably a bad idea to bring him to this meeting. He clenches his fists, feels the handcuffs dig into his wrists. He draws in a steadying breath, carefully not meeting Yuuri’s eyes widened in alarm. He’s thankful for Makkachin’s steady warmth against his leg.

“Truly,” he agrees, keeping his voice neutral. “Though that requires lack of faith in his highness, I believe. I’d hate to think someone would doubt his virtue and intelligence. I am, after all, merely a renegade ice mage.”

“Gentlemen,” Lilia interrupts their staring match with. “I don’t think this discussion will lead us anywhere. Let us-“

“Unless his virtue is already soiled?”

The only reason Viktor doesn’t throw himself at Josef is shock, and the fact that Lilia breaks the table in half. It’s a clean break from one end to the other, not a single speck of dust in the air as the wood groans and folds on itself.

“That’s enough! You have one chance to explain yourself before I throw you out, head first!”

Lilia’s voice rings through the room, the chandeliers all but quivering. There’s a brief pause after her outburst, Viktor holding his breath. While Lila might not be a powerful mage, her presence alone is enough to send the small hairs at his nape tingling with the force of it. Somehow, Josef doesn’t look nearly as unsettled as he should.

“I’m glad you asked, General Baranovskaya. May I remind you of the intel we received this morning? You know as well as I do that we cannot ignore the situation.”

“Unconfirmed rumors are still only rumors.”

“I suppose. But we have the perfect opportunity here, don’t we? People are talking, Lilia. A strong ice mage other than Christophe, roaming the kingdom at this time? If he goes, there will be an easy explanation, and _those_ rumors will die.”

Frowning, Viktor bites the inside of his cheek to avoid responding. He doesn’t want to think about this, about Christophe and Yuuri and what tradition dictates. There’s a heavy weight lodged in his stomach, and he stares at the floor with unseeing eyes. It’s too easy to remember the past, him and Chris joking around together, innocently challenging each other to see who was stronger. They didn’t think much about the future, about the young prince clinging to his mother’s dress. Tradition was merely a word – and marriage wasn’t the only way to tie the mage guild with the royal family.

Minako had been adopted into the family. Yuuri’s grandmother had made sure to be the most powerful ice mage herself, fusing the guild and the throne on her own to spare her little brother from the power hungry mages that fought for the top. Viktor couldn’t pretend he didn’t wish that Yuuri would do the same. He was far too precious to marry someone for _tradition_ , of all things.

And yet, the public opinion had swayed the past years. People were pushing for a marriage, to see the two pillars of strength unite. Mari would produce the heirs; Yuuri, the power.

It helped that Christophe was just the right age, just handsome and charming enough.

(Viktor could have been there, could have been the obvious candidate. But would things have been the same? Would he have loved Yuuri as he loves him now, if pushed into it by force?)

“What intel?” Yuuri asks, dragging Viktor out from his depressing thoughts. When Lilia hesitates he takes a few steps closer to the wrecked table, the other council members remaining awkwardly in their chairs. “Lilia, what rumors are you talking about?”

“There have been… sightings, along the coast. Ships, carrying no flags. Sailors are talking about ship wrecks flushed ashore. We have nothing to indicate that these ships are affiliated with the Leroys, however.”

“It would certainly put the people at ease though if someone could investigate these ships, see where they come from,” Josef adds.

“Few ships will sail now anyway,” Celestino points out, tapping his knee. “The storms will hit us any day now.”

“The rest of the royal family will be travelling home tomorrow along the southeast roads… We wouldn’t want them to happen upon anything unfortunate, would we?”

If it was only Josef, Viktor would say no. The rest of Yuuri’s family is accompanied by strong mages and knights, and careful enough to avoid ambush. But the look on Yuuri’s face, the flicker of worry…

If Viktor cannot make Yuuri happy, he will at least not cause him grief.

“I’ll do it,” he sighs, hurrying to continue before any protests can fall from Yuuri’s sweet lips. “But don’t think I’m doing this on _your_ behalf, Josef. Consider yourself lucky that we’re in a room full of witnesses.”

“Viktor, please-“

“I won’t allow it!” comes Lilia’s sharp voice, furious as she stands over the chopped-in-half table, the other council members having scooted backwards on their respective chairs. “There is no reason for this other than foolishness.”

Viktor shrugs, and snaps the cuffs binding his hands into pieces. His ice magic had been slowly seeping into the metal, and now they shattered much like glass.

“It’s not the first time someone calls me foolish,” he says, ignoring the pang of loss at the memory of his old mentor Yakov, mirrored in Lilia’s eyes. “We can only hope the rumors are wrong.”

He glances at Yuuri, aches to take him in his arms, to kiss away the pale worry on his face. It will have to wait a little longer. With a dramatic flair to his cape, Viktor and Makkachin flicker out of sight.

 

･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*☆

 

Viktor, naturally, ends up in Yuuri’s bed chambers. It looks the same as a month ago, the bed pristinely made by the maids, the heavy embroidered pillows still as uncomfortable as he lounges against them. He thinks of nothing and everything while he waits, but mostly he thinks of Yuuri. When Viktor had found him, all alone and lost on a bewitched pathway, he’d thought he must have wandered into the world from a fairytale. In truth he was simply on his coming of age journey, and Viktor had mistaken him for one of the many apprentice mages studying beside the royal castle.

Yuuri, who was mostly a flustered mess embarrassed to be lost, had not corrected his assumption.

He sinks lower on the pillows, Makkachin snuggled against his side. Petting her absentmindedly he loses himself in memories, smiles at all the silly things they did together with no one around to judge them.

He doesn’t notice the door opening until Yuuri draws the curtains closed inside the room, shutting the stormy night out.

“That was unusually quick,” he notes, Makkachin agreeing with a low _boof_.

“I couldn’t stand it much longer,” Yuuri sighs, rubbing his forehead wearily. “And do you ever think before settling in here? Someone could have seen you.”

“From outside?” They’re ten stories up, only rocky cliffs below the castle wall on this side.

Yuuri sends him a look at his dry tone, walking over to a large and ornately carved vanity, unclasping his various decorations; gloves and gems and his fluttery coat, the crown last of all.

“Spies don’t necessarily need to climb hard surfaces to see. For someone living such a dangerous life, you sure lack a sense of worry.”

“I’m too old to worry.” Viktor stretches on the bed, languid and with a satisfying crack from his spine. “Besides, you worry enough for both of us, solnyshko.”

Heaving a sigh, Yuuri leans against the vanity, eyeing Viktor through the mirror. His dark brown eyes are troubled, and Viktor is certain he’s about to be scolded.

“Come here,” he says softly before Yuuri can start, holding his arms out for him.

For a few more seconds Yuuri stares at him, then his hands squeeze the polished wood, pushing him back before he turns.

“This conversation isn’t over,” Yuuri tells him sternly, but he does come, settling into Viktor’s arms comfortably despite his extravagant clothing.

“Of course not.”

Viktor kisses the top of his head, pulling him as close as he possibly can. Yuuri’s smell is Viktor’s absolute favorite, and he inhales unashamedly to remind his waning memory.

“Missed you,” he adds, and this time Yuuri sighs, hand wandering to caress Viktor’s jaw.

“I missed you, too,” he mumbles, and Viktor’s heart burns.

It’s a cold burn, like ice pressed to already frozen skin, numb pain curling around his ribs. He burns with the knowledge that there’s no end in sight, no solution to their love. Some days, Viktor wishes they had never met at all.

Most days he wishes he’d made better choices, hadn’t gone and gotten himself banned from the kingdom, but only because it causes Yuuri pain and trouble. Viktor is not a particularly patriotic man, but perhaps he really _is_ a loyal servant to Yuuri. Why else would he agree to Josef’s ridiculous mission plan, if not for the knowledge that no one else could possibly succeed? And Yuuri, with his family travelling, is too vulnerable to threats.

Viktor would rather squash any attempts before they get anywhere near his family or the castle itself.

“Don’t go.”

The words are so quiet that Viktor barely hears them, but Yuuri presses his hand to Viktor’s cheek and turns into him, as if afraid he’ll leave right away.

“Is that prince Yuuri of Hasetsu speaking, or the Yuuri with personal attachments to me?”

“You wouldn’t even go if we didn’t have _personal attachments_ , Viktor.”

“No, I suppose not. But I will go.”

Yuuri braces his weight on an elbow, leaning over Viktor to stare down in frustration. He looks so princely, still, in his robes and with that look in his eyes.

“What if it’s a trap?”

Lifting a hand, Viktor brushes his knuckles over Yuuri’s cheekbone, giving what he hopes is a soothing smile.

“I’ll be careful. Besides, I’m already banned. Why would anyone want to go through with some elaborate scheme to get rid of someone like me?”

Clearly that wasn’t the right thing to say because Yuuri immediately blanches, clutching at the hand on his cheek.

“Something feels wrong, Viktor. Won’t you listen to me, just this once?”

Viktor wants to listen. He wants to reassure Yuuri, to promise him he’ll never leave, _but_.

He’s not so convinced of his own importance that he thinks it’s that simple. Things _do_ seem wrong, because Yuuri’s family is travelling and this threat of war is a little too convenient. Add to that the attacks on the komainu, symbols of unity…

Something is wrong, but he doubts he’s the one in the center of this plot.

“Yuuri. Solnyshko.” He cups Yuuri’s face, commits his beauty once again to memory. “I’ll be careful, and back before you know it. Let’s not think about it now.”

“I can’t _not_ think about it,” Yuuri argues, but he doesn’t put up a fight when Viktor brings him down for a kiss.

Here’s the thing; when Viktor can’t see Yuuri, he dreams of kissing him. Each time he tells himself, _it can’t possibly be as perfect as in my memories_.

It’s better.

Yuuri kisses him like he’s precious, lips soft and mouth warm, hands careful as they tangle in his hair. It’s sweet and familiar and exhilarating all the same, Yuuri’s weight grounding him when all he wants is to float away into the sky.

“If you really intend to leave tonight,” Yuuri mumbles between kisses, eyes hooded as they bore into him, “then go while I’m asleep.”

“And until then?”

Viktor drags his palms down Yuuri’s back, finding hidden clasps and undoing them along the way. He finds bare skin, traces patterns over what he can reach while Yuuri holds his gaze, hard and heavy with unspoken words.

“Until then, make sure to tire me out enough to sleep until morning.”

It’s that moment, just as Viktor makes to kiss him again, that Makkachin makes her presence known. She butts her head against Yuuri’s shoulder, tongue lolling out in anticipation. Startled, Yuuri lets out a laugh, fending off her attempts at slobbering all over him.

“Makkachin, calm down!”

He rolls onto Viktor’s other side, struggling against his opened robes to bring his hands together. Soon enough Vicchan appears on top of Yuuri’s stomach, barking happily. Yuuri’s attempts at hushing him are promptly ignored as both poodles jump to the floor, running off to the corner where Vicchan keeps his toys.

“They look happy to see each other…” Viktor trails off, swallowing the lump in his throat at the longing that passes over Yuuri’s face.

“They do.”

Yuuri turns to him again, and Viktor hurries to wrap his arms around his waist, pulling him close. He’s warm, fitting so perfectly against his body. Every time they meet it’s harder to let go, harder to spend days with Yuuri’s touch lingering on his skin, desperately wishing things were different.

He wants to go back to the time they spent travelling together, carefree and giddy from falling in love.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Yuuri whispers, but how could Viktor not?

 _I love you_ , he wants to say, wants to burn the words into Yuuri’s soul, just as they are burned into his.

“I’m a selfish man,” he says instead, lifting a hand to caress Yuuri’s cheek, and he lowers, easily, lips electric at the faintest brush. “I don’t think I can stop.”

_I love you._

 

･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*☆

 

Viktor goes to see Christophe once Yuuri falls asleep. It’s not too late yet, but he’d lingered with Yuuri in his arms, reluctant to leave before the night was over. However, if he wants to stay by his word and search the coastline for threats he needs to get started before dawn.

Finding Christophe’s room isn’t difficult. Viktor knows how to disguise himself, moving in the shadows across the castle grounds until he reaches the squat tower where most of the magic council members live. The current council head is a woman with a very impressive track record, called Minako-sensei by Yuuri, who studied under her for years. She wasn’t terribly stern with Viktor back in the days – some may even call her lax – but she might have a thing or two to say to him now… So, he sends Makkachin inside first, letting her sniff out Christophe’s room and check whether or not he’s there at all.

He is.

And, to his luck, his room is on the tower side hidden from moonlight. Viktor climbs the two floors up to the window that Makkachin directs him at, forming small handles and footsteps of ice to aid him. He glances at Makkachin, the familiar having no problem hovering in the air besides him, and she gives a quiet boof to assure him it’s the right place. Before he can rethink it, Viktor knocks on the blinds covering the window from the chilly air, and listens to the shuffling inside.

“Who’s there?” comes Christophe’s voice, muffled by the wood.

He supposes it must seem a little shady, to be knocking on someone’s window close to midnight.

“It’s Viktor,” he replies, trying to sound more cheerful than he feels.

Christophe slams the blinds open, poking his head out to look down on Viktor just below them.

“Viktor, mon Dieu! It really is you!”

“Yes,” Viktor agrees, taking in the sight of his former best friend. “You look well, Christophe.”

It’s been a while since they last met, and even longer since they were alone together.

“’Christophe’,” he scoffs. “You make me sound like an old man. Call me Chris or I’ll let you freeze out there.”

Despite himself, Viktor can’t help laughing a little. Chris looks as handsome as ever, though his hair is a little shorter and he’s got the hint of a moustache and chin beard.

“Alright then, Chris,” Viktor gives in, accepting the hand stretched out to him and climbing inside.

“I heard you were around, but that was some hours ago,” Chris says with a pointed look, offering Viktor a chair. “Any particular reason you’ve been lingering?”

Viktor shrugs, keeping his lips sealed. He’s not sure how much Chris knows or suspects, but he’s not going to say _ah, you know, I spent some hours making love to the prince first_.

“Well, I hope you have a good reason to visit me this late at least. I certainly wasn’t expecting you!”

Clasping his hands over his knees, Viktor wonders where to start. He only had a vague plan and a bad feeling as reasons for coming here, and now he wonders how much his friend changed the past years.

“You know,” Chris continues, “the tournament is coming up fairly soon. You’re not planning to join, are you?”

The tournament, as people call it, consists of a lot more tests than the final, public event. Only carefully selected candidates are allowed to reach the finals, which span over an entire week of festivities. It’s mostly ceremonial, the days long passed when mages fought to the brink of death. Now, it’s merely a show of skill and strength, assuring the royal family as well as the people of Hasetsu that the victor is more than capable of leading the council of mages, as well as care for the magical studies.

Viktor does not want to think about it.

“Me? I’m hardly eligible for the selection process.”

“There’s always the final round,” Chris shrugs, a smug look on his face. “I’d accept a challenge from you, but only because I want to settle the score once and for all.”

“Is that so,” Viktor says blandly. His hands are still clasped over his knees but tenser now, twitching as his eyes bore into Chris. “You sound almost excited at the prospect.”

“Isn’t that why you’re here? To tell me you won’t give up?”

He bites the inside of his cheek, swallowing down a heated retort. _You can’t give up something that isn’t yours to begin with_ , he wants to scream.

“No.”

It’s harder to say than he thought it would be.

“I was hoping I could ask you to look after Yuuri… Something doesn’t feel right.”

“Yuuri?” Chris looks confused for a moment, leaning against the table Viktor sits by. “He’s got more than enough protection in the castle. No one would dare to try laying their hands on him.”

“I know, I just-“ Viktor swallows, watching the room rather than Chris. “I have no idea what goes on around here, but you do. It’s just a gut feeling, but I’ll feel better knowing he has some support.”

“Viktor…” Voice lowered in warning, Chris places a hand on the table and leans closer. “Are you trying to tell me the rumors are true?”

“What rumors.”

Chris stares at him, a hard look that tells Viktor he won’t appreciate lies.

“And here I thought you were going to challenge me for the council chair. I didn’t believe the rumor mill – after all, you never showed any interest in him before. I guess times change a man, hmm?”

“I just need to know if you’ll keep an eye out, and then I’ll be out of here.”

“What’s the rush?” Chris sweeps a hand towards his cabinets, one filled with crystal glasses and another with an assortment of wine bottles. “Have a drink with me, old memories and all that.”

Viktor shakes his head, standing up. There’s no time for that – though he can tell Chris is a bit disappointed.

“I actually have some urgent business I need to take care of, but I’ll come by another time.”

“Sure,” Chris huffs, but he doesn’t sound angry. “If it’s any consolation, I’m fairly certain Yuuri isn’t particularly eager to marry me.”

And wouldn’t things be easier if he was.

“If only his opinion was the only that mattered,” Viktor mutters.

Then, he leaves.

 

･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*☆

 

At the crack of dawn, Yuuri wakes to an empty bed. For a moment he stays still, eyes closed, pretending Viktor is still there with him.

He’s not.

Peeling his eyes open he stretches a hand out under the covers, feeling for the spot that Viktor rested on earlier. He’d told himself he wouldn’t fall asleep, wouldn’t let Viktor leave, and yet he was out like a light just from having Viktor close.

He sighs, and Vicchan jumps on the bed, nose cold against the base of his neck. He has so many things to do today, and none of them will be made more pleasant by worrying. Sunlight filters in through the curtains, but the distant squawking of gulls is strangely lacking.

Somehow he manages to convince himself to rise out of bed, wrapping a blanket around his bare shoulders. When he pulls the curtain aside the sea is a blank mirror, reflecting the few rays of sunlight that make it through the dark, heavy clouds. It makes for a pretty sight, but Yuuri tenses as he looks to the south-east. The clouds are darker there – ominous, if you believe in such things.

Yuuri’s anxiety believes in many things, and he presses his lips together, throat clogging up. He also believes that Viktor will come back. He always does, even when Yuuri tells him not to.

“Please,” he whispers, clutching the blanket tight around himself.

_Come back to me._


	2. Ice runs cold through my veins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've changed the rating from explicit to mature, because I spent way too much time trying to figure out what kind of smut I wanted and where and in the end, I felt the fic works better without it. I also rewrote the chapter like three times which was just pure agony. I also tagged some more characters.
> 
> Anyway, a big thank you to everyone who has commented and given kudos! For once, I'll even stick to the chapter plan and have this be only three chapters lol. I hope you like this chapter too~

The area of land and water leading from Hasetsu to where the royal family is encamped for the night is too large to cover in one night. Not if Viktor wants to properly search for traps laid with magic, at least. By the time the sky begins to redden at the horizon he feels almost aimless, flying back and forth along the coastline on his conjured ice dragon.

He’d started by finding the royal family, their large group of soldiers and royal servants easy to make out due to the fires lighting up the dark like beacons. They had a few mages of their own protecting them, but Yuuri had told him that none of them could fight off a serious threat from a skilled mage without putting his family at risk. It made unease boil in the pit of his stomach, knowing Yuuri’s family travelled with such little protection. Of course, the road they used was safe, and the journey rather short even over land, but it was a small relief that they chose to forego taking a ship.

Storm season is always harsh, and the wind howled around him most of the night. If Viktor is lucky, there really is no threat luring in the empty fields. If Viktor is unlucky…

Well, he’d rather not think of it unless he has to.

It takes him a while to pick up on the change as morning light slowly rolls in over the land, too busy searching for magical traces to notice the world around him. Eventually his dragon drops in speed, wings flapping quick and light, spraying ice crystals behind them. He blinks, frowning at the lack of wind. It’s unusual for the bay leading towards the small town of Itoshima to have calm weather even during summer, the wind usually picking up in strength between the tall cliffs on each side. Yuuri’s family has been traveling from the neighboring country through Itoshima, taking the scenic route along the sea.

Why someone would take the scenic route at the risk of running into a storm, Viktor does not know. What he does know is that they’re all camped outside the city due to the amount of people with them, since Itoshima isn’t large enough to house them all.

It puts them very close to the water, and Viktor pauses in the air just at the mouth of the narrow bay. There is no wind, and the water is as still as a pond on a hot summer’s day, though the clouds overhead are as dark as ever. The rising sun bathes the dark water and steep cliffs in rays of red and gold, and the scene would be gorgeous if fear wasn’t clutching at Viktor’s heart.

When he concentrates on the air rather than the ground, he can feel the faint whispers of magic shimmering around him, his eyes inevitably drawn further into the bay. There is _something_ down there, and Viktor isn’t eager to find out.

He draws in a breath and urges the dragon lower, and though it’s made entirely out of his magic and air moisture, a ripple of unease seems to move through its delicate neck. Perhaps he’s projecting his own feelings onto it, but the terrifying reality is that Josef may very well be right. He thinks of Yuuri, waiting back at the castle, and the cascade of water erupting around him takes him entirely by surprise.

There’s barely time enough to let out a curse before he’s enveloped in a cage of water, electric currents coursing through it. There’s no use fighting it – he’s tried and failed before. Instead he groans, his dragon dispelling as the cage moves underwater with him. Once below the surface he sees the smug faces of several merpeople swimming around him, their tripods creating sparks as they nudge his cage. Well, isn’t that just fantastic. Viktor does _not_ have time for this, fingers twitching with the urge to attempt breaking free.

He holds no doubts that they’d delight in drowning him if he did.

They push him long enough through open water that Viktor grows bored of it, and he’s muttering to himself about irritating magical creatures when he pops through the surface again. He’s all but thrown forwards, the cage breaking to let him fall face first into shallow water. Some undignified splashing later, he stands up and wipes water from his eyes.

“How nice of you to show up early,” a voice he remembers all too well says. “Of course, nice is a relative term. In this case I’ll let it slide because it only serves my interests that you are here before I’ve properly prepared.”

“Hello to you, too, Georgi.”

There’s the slide of too many octopus-like arms, and Viktor wants to groan out loud as Georgi the sea witch reaches out with one arm to capture him.

“I don’t have time for this, Georgi, so I would appreciate if you told me your business quickly and then I’ll be on my way again.”

“Oh, I’m afraid you’re not going anywhere. Nothing personal, of course.”

Viktor’s heart sinks. They’re in a wide cave, the so called entrance hall to Georgi’s castle. Half of it is above water, the other half below, mostly inhabited by merpeople. He’s been here twice, and he has a feeling that the third time won’t be pleasant.

“It’s always personal with you,” he mutters, but Georgi sighs as if lost in thought.

“Hurry up!” one of the mermen that caught him complains, splashing his large tailfin impatiently. “It’s been too long since we last fed someone to the eels.”

“You’re so impatient,” a mermaid huffs. “Let’s make him suffer a bit first.”

“Can I ask what’s going on?” Viktor says, trying to ignore how he’s being slowly squeezed by a slimy, thick arm. “I’m sure it’s all an unfortunate misunderstanding.”

The merman rolls his eyes, his hair blond and his teeth sharp. He looks fairly young, though Viktor won’t pretend to understand how merpeople biology works.

“This human seems irritating,” he says, rolling onto his back and swimming lazily along the water’s edge, his tripod seemingly abandoned. “I call dibs on deciding what part of him to feed the eels first.”

“Shush, Yuri,” Georgi calls, making his way towards the inner caves, arms crawling over the sandy ground. “There’s no feeding to be done before _he_ arrives.”

Thoughts spinning, Viktor stays silent as they take him to a prison cell. The merpeople swim with them in the deep crack through the ground, eyeing him with barely contained glee. He’s mostly dealt with Georgi before, but merpeople are infamous for having their own set of morals. If they think Viktor should be fed to the eels he’ll have a hard time convincing them otherwise. He could escape, he supposes, but he’d rather not have to avoid the ocean for the rest of his life.

“There we go,” Georgi sighs, sounding morose as he drops Viktor inside a cell.

Sharp corals coated with magic bars the front, and Viktor is careful not to touch them as they grind into place.

“You still haven’t explained,” he says, trying to sound nice and conversational. “I know you always have a very noble reason for your actions.”

Georgi sighs again, a deep one through his entire body. He pats at his hair, the dark strands shaped in a forwards spike resembling the stalactites hanging from the cave’s ceiling. He waves at the merpeople to leave, but the one called Yuri stays.

“He wants Anya back,” Yuri tells him, rolling his eyes. “But _I_ want you to die for a much better reason.”

“Oh, my Anya!” Georgi wails, multiple arms slapping against the ground. His human arms reach upwards, for something that isn’t there. “She was ripped from me so cruelly, I will die without her!”

Deeming Georgi a lost cause, Viktor gives the merman a questioning look.

“As if I want to explain to you,” Yuri spits, dipping underwater and coming back up with a violent splash. “Heartbreaker.”

“I swear I have nothing to do with Anya.”

The name sets Georgi wailing again, the sound echoing off the walls. Viktor can think of a hundred more important things to do. All he needs to know is approximately how large the cave is at this part so that he can teleport outside of it, considering it’s located above the waterline (he hopes), but somehow he has a feeling that Yuri won’t tell him this. The previous times he was fortunate enough to not be taken this deep inside the castle.

“I wasn’t talking about Anya,” Yuri scoffs, sending an annoyed look towards Georgi. Viktor wonders if he knows how to say anything at a normal tone of voice. “But this idiot here is only helping Josef because he thinks Anya will come back.”

Viktor nearly chokes as he hears the name. He takes a moment to reel his surprise in, starting to shiver from his wet clothes.

“You are friends of Josef?” he asks carefully, watching how Yuri’s face twists into disgust.

“No more talking!” Georgi orders, seeming to have regained his composure. “Yuri, guard him until we come back. Once he’s dead I’ll have my Anya back, oh darling, we’ll be reunited soon!”

As Georgi slides away from them, Viktor bites his lips until it hurts. Last night he’d reassured Yuuri that there was no way Viktor was in any sort of danger – and look how wrong he was. When Georgi can only be heard through the echoes of his love declarations, Yuri makes another grimace and flops his fin.

“He’s so dramatic.”

“Will you answer my question?”

Yuri hums, regarding him with superiority. He’s rather pretty, with a delicate face and slender body, his fin glinting with gold. Perhaps he’s important in merpeople society, or he simply enjoys wearing eye catching jewelry. Either way he’s wearing gold chains and seashells encrusted with diamonds, looking at Viktor like he’s a dirty rag.

“Why should I?”

Resisting the urge to swear, Viktor wipes wet hair out of his face and considers the fact that this merman is, possibly, hardly more than a child.

“You’re allied with Hasetsu’s royal family, right? Prince Yuuri will be very upset if you harm me.”

“Filthy, land-walking liar!” Yuri dips underwater again, reappearing a little ways off as if he can’t stand being closer to Viktor. “Prince Yuuri is the one who wants you dead!”

“Did he tell you so?”

Ignoring the stab he feels at the possibility, Viktor guesses that this is something Josef has made them believe for whatever reason. Besides, if Yuuri wanted him dead he would do the job himself. He’s as far away from backstabbing as you can get.

“Well.” Yuri slowly swims closer, glaring at him with obvious distrust. “He sent a messenger.”

“Have you met prince Yuuri?”

This time Yuri slaps his tail against the water so that it sprays all over Viktor.

“Of course I have! And he’s a lot nicer than _you_.”

“A little too nice to murder people, I’d say.”

“That’s fine,” Yuri says, straightening up. “He can leave those things to me.”

Merpeople don’t really kill humans anymore, but Viktor supposes that Yuri thinks that’s a shame. Viktor is walking a fine line between winning Yuri over and having him attempt to finish the job right away, and he carefully considers his next words.

“He would never ask someone to kill me, I can promise you that.”

“Ha! What makes you think you’re so special, hmm? I know you’ve been trying to ensnare his heart with your lies!”

Viktor has to give it to Josef for playing to merpeople’s weak points. They take love incredibly seriously and only mate for life – to string someone along with no intentions of mating them is considered the most serious offence. It’s especially awful since Viktor can’t make true of his wish to marry him.

“What, not going to defend yourself?”

“If you kill me, the only lie I’ll ever have told Yuuri is promising to come back to him.”

“You’re lying.”

“I’m not.”

Yuri starts swimming back and forth, staring at him with unblinking eyes. It resembles pacing, the way he’s tensed and only going a short distance each way. Viktor tries to look trustworthy, though he probably resembles a drenched rat more than a dependable mage. If he didn’t know for sure that Yuri would pick up on the magic he’d heat himself up.

“If you’re friends with him, you should at least ask him before listening to second-hand information,” Viktor adds, and Yuri pauses.

“I don’t like that guy,” Yuri says, leaning his elbows on the edge of the narrow channel of water. “He smells like dark magic.”

“Josef?”

Yuri’s tail emerges only to make a dismissive flick of the fin.

“He’s making Georgi put together something. He said Yuuri wants it in exchange for giving Anya back…”

“What happened to Anya?”

A huff and splash of water, and Yuri rolls his eyes.

“She left Georgi for a _land-walker_. Made herself legs and everything. But Georgi thinks she was kidnapped, of course.”

 “I don’t think Yuuri could do anything about that.”

“I guess.”

Yuri leans his head in both hands, a small pout on his lips. His gold chains jingle with every movement, glittering in the low lighting. He seems comfortable in the cold temperature, skin slightly greenish and eyes a deep blue to match the ocean.

“I’ll think about it,” Yuri announces, pushing off the edge again.

“Think about what?”

But Yuri ignores him, floating on his back and idly waving his tail, muttering under his breath as if arguing with himself. Viktor decides not to push him. He’s got a feeling about what exactly it is that Georgi is making for Josef, but he’d prefer confirmation before telling Yuuri. He can only hope that Yuri starts talking before Georgi returns with him, or he’ll simply have to hope that his maximum teleporting distance will be enough to escape.

Sitting down, he resigns himself to the wait.

 

･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*☆

 

Yuuri sits in his study, occupying his mind with mundane paperwork. It only works a little bit, his eyes continuously sliding off the report in his hand and glancing out the tall windows instead. The clouds are as dark as ever, but the trees beneath show not a hint of wind. It feels as if the world is holding its breath, waiting for a storm.

Or worse.

He flattens the papers onto the desk, angry with himself. He shouldn’t have let Viktor go. He should have gone with him. He shouldn’t have followed the trail of magic to the poor komainu in the first place.

It seems that all he ever does is cause trouble for Viktor, from the first time they met and all throughout their travels. And now, in his role as prince, he keeps on doing the same.

If only Viktor listened to him when he told him to stay away, to keep his distance from Yuuri. It would be easier to talk himself out of his foolish ideas if he did... But Viktor, always so sweet and as reluctant to part as Yuuri was, always returns. More importantly, Viktor deserves better than to be forced to sneak around. He deserves to live freely, to smile like he used to, when he didn’t know who Yuuri was.

Maybe Yuuri should have never told him. Maybe he should have ended things back then, instead of selfishly clinging to his presence in Yuuri’s life. And yet here he is, less than two weeks away from the start of the tournament supposed to secure his future with Chris, Viktor filling his thoughts and bed and-

A knock on the door diverts his thoughts from more pleasant memories, and he’s barely turned around before it’s thrown open.

“What is this foolishness?” Minako all but shouts, her face the very definition of rage.

She slams the door behind her, stalking over to Yuuri as if expecting him to know exactly what she’s referring to. _I’ve done too many foolish things lately_ , he thinks a little hysterically, wondering if it’s too late to dive through one of the windows.

“I-“ he starts, wringing his hands, but she grabs the back of his chair and leans in too close for him to dare say any more than that.

“You sent _Viktor Nikiforov_ to investigate a threat against your family?”

“Well, the council-“

“To hell with the council!” Minako throws her hand out, starting to pace the room much to Yuuri’s despair. “Who could possibly think that was a good idea? Oh yes, let’s give a renegade mage with questionable motives a plausible excuse to be near the royal family!”

 Drawing in a deep breath, Yuuri stands.

“I trust him.”

The words ring through the shocked silence in the room, coiling around Yuuri like his own doom. Not that he doesn’t trust Minako as well, but time is running out. Yuuri can’t afford more mistakes like yesterday.

“You trust him.”

Minako is frowning, though at least she stops her irate pacing.

“Yes. And to be clear, I was against the idea.”

“Then _why_ did he go?”

Yuuri clears his throat, reminding himself that this is his old teacher, Minako, not a court member he’s not supposed to offend. Still, his anxious mind is begging him to curl into himself, to apologize.

“He offered. Or well, Josef made some underhanded threats and then he offered.”

“That man,” Minako swears, running a hand through her long hair. “He is up to no good, I just know it.”

When Yuuri merely keeps his stiff posture, Minako sighs and waves at him to sit down again. Technically it should be the other way around since the prince outranks the head of the magic council, but Minako is also adopted into the family as some kind of honorary aunt, and some habits are hard to break between student and teacher.

“I don’t appreciate waking up to such news,” she mutters, grabbing the spare chair next to the desk and slumping down in it. “Tell me what happened.”

As Yuuri recounts the council meeting, Minako’s frown only deepens.

“I don’t know what hold Josef has over Viktor, but it made him agree.”

“As much as I disagree with Josef,” Minako starts slowly, eyes narrowing, “he did bring up one important point.”

“Which is?”

Yuuri wants to know what happened in the past, because Viktor wouldn’t tell him last night either. He’s about to ask Minako when her reply makes him bite the inside of his cheek until it hurts.

“That it’s worrisome to have Nikiforov roaming the kingdom for no good reason when we’re so close to the tournament. Who knows what he’s going to try? The victorious mage can accept a challenge from anyone, even outsiders.”

 _Outsiders_. Yuuri hates how the word rings in his ears. Viktor is not an outsider – he grew up on the castle grounds, just like Yuuri.

“Is anyone ever going to tell me _why_ he was banned from Hasetsu?”

He can feel the unease boiling inside him, that constant fear of being caught, of being told _Yuuri, this has to stop._

His sister already told him that, once.

“He used forbidden magic to enhance his abilities, and it caused the death of his mentor,” Minako sighs, Yuuri’s heart stilling in his chest. “It was a truly unfortunate event.”

Yuuri hadn’t been present at the castle when it happened, instead visiting his friend Phichit. When he came home, all he’d been told was that Viktor was no longer welcome in Hasetsu, and that Yakov had died in an accident.

“He was banned for that?”

Minako shakes her head, walking over to the windows and staring out at the calm sea. He doesn’t know what to think, thoughts whirring in his head until he wants to scream out loud. Why would Viktor ever need to use forbidden magic to grow stronger? Unless, the very reason he was as strong as he is…

“Viktor left, most likely running away because of the guilt. The council decided he was to be excluded from the ranks and eventually it turned into a full ban.”

“That doesn’t explain his reputation, though.”

Turning towards him, Minako raised an eyebrow.

“Well, he certainly hasn’t laid low since he left. It’s no secret that he wants revenge.”

“Why would he want revenge?” Yuuri stands, running a hand through his hair. “There’s nothing to get revenge for.”

“It was Josef who caught him.” Pursing her lips, Minako draws her robes tighter around herself as if to ward off some chill in the air. “Supposedly Viktor tried to get rid of him, and Yakov got caught in the middle. They’ve hated each other ever since.”

Well, that explained their behavior towards each other the day before, but none of it sat right with Yuuri. He rubbed at his cheek, mulling the information over back and forth.

“Then… What about the price on his head?”

To his surprise, Minako barked out a laugh, making her way over to Yuuri’s wine cabinet to pour herself a glass. Yuuri would protest that it was too early in the day, but she never listened to him anyway.

“That’s a longer story, also involving Josef. It’s not important, Yuuri. But up until some years ago, even you can’t say that Viktor didn’t sabotage things for Hasetsu.”

“But that’s-“

“ _Yuuri_.”

Minako sets her glass down, boring her eyes into him.

“Viktor is a dangerous man. I know the two of you have been playing some sort of cat-and-mouse game lately and that he seems all nice and docile, but you can’t trust him. Men like him don’t forgive and forget.”

 _But he loves me_ , Yuuri doesn’t say. _I made him forget_.

At least, so he hopes.

 

･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*☆

 

“I’ve thought about it,” Yuri says, startling Viktor out of his thoughts. “I like Yuuri so I’ll listen to what you want to say.”

“Thank you,” he sighs, struggling to stand up with stiffened limbs. “First of all-“

Yuri splashes him with water. Eyes closed, Viktor draws in a deep breath, feeling the glee radiate off the merman.

“I didn’t say you could start yet,” Yuri drawls, and when Viktor opens his eyes he finds him grinning, evidently pleased with himself. “If you’re not trying to trick Yuuri with your evil intentions, what do you want from him?”

“I just want to keep him safe.”  

“Boring.” Yuri picks at his nails, showing the fine webs between his fingers. “At least try to be convincing.”

“Well, what do you want me to say? I die a little every day knowing he will never be allowed to pick me as his mate, and now Josef is trying to hurt him. The least I can do is stay alive and protect him.”

There’s a gleam in Yuri’s eyes, and he hangs off the edge of the ground again.

“Oho?” he says, playing with the shells hanging from his necklace. “A tragic, unrequited love story? It’s always so funny when the lover dies in those.”

“Yuuri will hate you forever.”

The comment earns him a scowl, and Yuri lets go of the shells to point at him.

“You don’t know that!”

“I do.”

“Ugh, you’re so irritating.”

“Josef only wants me dead so that Yuuri will be hurt.”

A conflicted look passes over Yuri’s face, and he glances in the direction Georgi disappeared.

“I was really looking forward to feeding the eels,” he pouts, and Viktor dares to believe he’s managed to convince him.

“What is Georgi making for Josef?”

“I don’t know.” Yuri is still pouting, mood soured now that he’s decided not to get rid of Viktor. “Some kind of crystal. We’re not allowed to look at it.”

Viktor clears his throat, making a show of checking that they’re alone.

“I’m sure you’re smarter than to listen to him, no?”

“Of course I am!” Yuri puffs his chest out, realizing a second too late that he said too much. “I just don’t want to tell you.”

“It will help Yuuri. I’m fairly certain that Josef is planning something that will upset him greatly.”

He’s treated to another glare, and he can practically hear Yuri weighing the pros and cons in his head.

“You know, I _will_ find out if you’re lying to me,” Yuri hisses, baring his teeth. “And if you are, I’ll do something much worse than eels.”

“I don’t doubt it.”

Apparently Yuri decides he still believes him, because he heaves a dramatic sigh and hops onto the edge so that he sits on it, tail flapping in the water.

“It’s one of those dark crystals, the blood magic kind. Josef gives Georgi the blood and Georgi makes it all powerful and such. I don’t really care for dark magic. Only a land-dwelling _human_ would bother with it.”

“And in exchange, Georgi will supposedly have Anya back?”

Making an affirmative noise, Yuri shrugs.

“I doubt he will. Which makes it more interesting, you know? I want to see Josef _try_ to hide from Georgi.”

He snickers, teeth glinting sharply. Viktor nods as if to agree, because he has tried to hide from Georgi in the past which he thinks might still be a sore spot for the witch. More importantly, his worst suspicions have been confirmed, and he clenches his fists at the thought of what might happen now. Nothing pleasant, he’s sure.

“Has he helped Josef with anything else?”

Yuri tilts his head side to side, creating bubbles with his tailfin by flipping it underwater. He’s the very picture of a bad liar, and Viktor would find it amusing if the situation wasn’t so serious.

“Please, Yuri?”

“Well, we _may_ have sunk some ships, but that’s hardly anything to be upset over, is it?”

It probably is, but Viktor’s only happy it’s not something worse. He’s about to reply when they hear sudden voices, and the echoing of footsteps. All things considered, it’s unlikely that the steps belong to anyone besides Josef himself.

“I have to go,” he says, gathering up some magic until he feels it tingle in his fingertips, grabbing the scepter by his hip. “Can you tell Yuuri all of this? I need him to know just in case.”

“What, you’re actually going to escape?” Yuri asks, dismayed, but one look from Viktor has him sighing in defeat. “Fine, I’ll stall them for a bit.”

“I owe you,” Viktor promises as Yuri opens the coral gate for him to slip through.

“My help is _very_ expensive,” the merman quips back, and Viktor spares a second to send him a knowing grin before he flickers out of sight.

 

･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*☆

 

Yuuri is discussing dinner arrangements with one of the housekeepers when Vicchan appears before them in a small poof, carrying a seashell in his mouth and immediately pawing at Yuuri’s leg.

“Ah,” he says, seeing the bubbles erupting from the opening in the shell. “If you’ll excuse me.”

He takes the shell from Vicchan, feeling its weight as he hurries to find somewhere secluded. It’s rather large, the kind that wraps around itself on the inside, spikes adorning the slightly yellowed surface. He hopes all Yuri wants is a friendly chat.

“Hello,” he says once he’s tickled the correct spot on the side of it, and there’s the sound of rushing water before Yuri’s voice echoes through the small library he’d found.

“Why is your mate so irritating,” is the first thing he says, and Yuuri’s heart lurches in his chest.

“You met Viktor?”

“Unfortunately. I was going to have so much fun feeding him to the eels, too.”

“What? Yurio, what happened?”

“That’s not my name!”

He can hear Yuri click his tongue, but he’s too worried to apologize for the nickname Mari had come up with during their many summers nearby Yuri’s home.

“Please? Is he hurt?”

“No,” Yuri huffs, “unless Josef caught up with him. _I_ didn’t hurt him.”

There’s an armchair next to him, and Yuuri sinks into it, heart beating furiously in his chest.

“Start from the beginning?” he begs, and Yuri tells him about how Georgi told them to capture Viktor, and how Josef had assured them that Yuuri wanted him dead.

The more Yuri tells him, the more his worry turns into ice cold fear. If Viktor is hurt he’ll never forgive himself – how could he let him leave like that? He thanks the heavens silently that Yuri was the one guarding him, thoughts racing through his head until it spins.

“And now Georgi is angry at me for letting him slip away,” Yuri finishes, the complaint accompanied with what’s most likely a splash from his tail. “He’s so unreasonable. Clearly Anya doesn’t want him so he’s only making a fool of himself.”

“You’re absolutely certain that Josef is behind this?”

“Bald, nasty, walks on two legs? Definitely him. He called Georgi an incompetent fish, so rude.”

“Oh, this is terrible,” Yuuri mumbles to himself, rubbing his cheek.

“I know, that’s the worst thing he could say. Georgi should have squeezed him to death just for that.”

“No, I meant- Nevermind.” Yuuri draws in deep breaths, hunched over the shell on his lap. “When will the crystal be ready?”

“How would I know,” Yuri scoffs, and Yuuri’s sure that he’s rolling his eyes. “I have better things to do than keep track of human stuff. But we weren’t supposed to catch Viktor yet, I suppose.”

That should give them some time, then. Viktor would come back – surely he would – and they could figure out what to do. He needs to think of a way to protect Viktor, too, and maybe have that conversation with his family that he’s been putting off for far too long…

“Oi, are you still there?”

Before Yuuri can reply there’s a knock on the door, a servant peeking his head through the door soon after.

“Your highness,” he squeaks, as if he didn’t expect to find him in there. “Everyone is looking for you, it seems the king and queen have returned.”

Yuuri stands abruptly, hoping Yuri will forgive him for ending the conversation so suddenly.

“Are they alright?”

“I should think so, your highness.”

If Yuuri runs the entire way through the castle and out onto the courtyard, he’s counting on no one mentioning it to his face. He’s still clutching the seashell against his chest as he finds Mari speaking to Michele, medics fussing over someone lying on a stretcher next to them. The walled-in space is filled with noisy soldiers and horses, stable hands scurrying between them, and Yuuri has to step aside several times to avoid being run over.

“I assure you she will recover,” Mari tells Michele, sounding as if she’s repeating herself for the tenth time.

“Whose idea was it to send you off with only one competent mage?” Michele bites back, just as Yuuri draws near enough to see Sara, his twin sister, looking pale as she lies unconscious on the stretcher. “This is outrageous!”

“Ah,” Mari says, having noticed Yuuri. “There’s my brother, if you’ll excuse me.”

Mari’s usually relaxed body language has been switched to a tense stiffness in her shoulders and the set of her jaw, and Yuuri tries not to imagine Viktor on a stretcher instead. Sara is a skilled mage, serving as the royal family’s personal guard on most travels. There’s usually a bunch of lower-ranked mages with her, though.

“Where is-“

“They’re fine,” Mari cuts him off, linking their arms together and dragging him back towards the castle entrance. “Accompany me to my room.”

There’s no arguing with Mari, both her gaze and grip like steel. Something bad must have happened for her to act like this, and Yuuri isn’t eager to find out. He notices a few wounded soldiers as they make their way back through the mass of people, though people part smoothly for them this time. No one follows them up the stairs and through the corridors leading to the royal bedchambers, but Mari still glances back now and then as if to make sure. When they reach her room she ushers him inside, locking the door behind them and pausing for a moment with her hand on the door handle.

“Neesan?”

She sighs, a troubled look on her face as she turns to him. Her travel clothes are plain compared to Yuuri’s outfit, her dark hair carefully wrapped around her head with only a thin gold band adorning it. He hasn’t sat down, his nerves urging him to shift his weight from one foot to the other as he waits.

“Sit,” she says, flicking her hand at him when he merely frowns. “And make sure your spells are functional.”

Yuuri has infused the entire wing of the castle dedicated to the royal family with spells to protect them against spies, and the only way for someone to listen in would be if they were present in the room.  They could still see them, however, and he figures they should draw the thick curtains closed as well.

“It will take a few minutes.”

She gives him a look, and Yuuri sighs before walking around to touch certain parts of the walls, strengthening the magic that, coincidentally, Viktor had taught him. Once he’s done she pats the seat beside her on the couch, and Yuuri joins her with a sinking feeling in his gut. Once the curtains are all drawn shut, the sitting room only illuminated by a few enchanted glass orbs, Mari takes off her riding gloves and hangs her thick wool cloak over the back of the couch. Somehow Yuuri gets the feeling that she’s trying to think of the best way to say whatever it is they needed to be alone for, and he feels like he could burst out of his skin any moment now with all the nightmare scenarios rushing through his mind.

“Yuuri,” she starts, boring her eyes into his. “Do you really, truly, think that Viktor is a good person?”

“What?” He blinks at her, voice breaking slightly. “What brought this on?”

While Mari doesn’t approve, she did accept that Yuuri had made his choice. Unless, of course, she changed her mind.

“We were preparing to leave our camp when someone attacked us. There were mages dressed in King JJ’s colors, and soldiers as well.”

“And what does that have to do with Viktor?”

“The ones we captured claimed that Viktor was behind it. And we could all see someone circling us from above on an ice dragon.”

“That’s impossible.” Yuuri lowers his gaze, touching the seashell. There’s a ringing in his ears, a sensation much like frost spreading through his body, twisting around the pounding of his heart. “I know he can’t have been there.”

“Not many people can conjure ice dragons, much less ones that are as big as Viktor’s.”

“But some people can.”

Yuuri lifts his head, handing the shell to Mari.

“Yurio contacted me. Viktor was sitting in a prison cell with Yurio guarding him until not even an hour ago.”

“Yurio said that?” Mari turns the shell over in her hands, running a thumb over the ridges. “I suppose he wouldn’t lie.”

Smiling faintly, Yuuri shakes his head.

“He was going to feed him to the eels, apparently.”

“Has he ever _actually_ fed someone to the eels?” Mari asks, mouth twitching with amusement. “What did Viktor do to offend him that much?”

“They thought I had ordered it.” He tries to keep his voice steady, but the strain of the day is starting to take its toll on him. “Through Josef.”

“Josef?”

Yuuri recounts what Yuri told him as well as the previous days’ events, Mari’s frown deepening with each word. It’s a relief to tell her about everything, though he leaves out the part where Viktor had stayed the night.

“Let’s say that Josef is behind all this,” she says when he’s finished. “What would he gain?”

“A war,” Yuuri offers. “And me, I suppose.”

“He would gain control,” she adds slowly, nodding to herself. “If we’re dead and you’re married to Chris, he could rule both the royal and the magic councils as he sees fit.”

“I wouldn’t let him.”

“You’d be too heartbroken,” Mari tells him, squeezing his hand. “And there are ways I wouldn’t put beneath him.”

“Then we need to stop him before any of that happens.”

Mari sighs, leaning into the couch much like she would whenever Yuuri would try to convince her that a secret moonlight ride was a perfectly good idea when he was but ten years old. (She did take him out on one, but she also pretended to disappear so that he cried and never asked to sneak out of the castle again. At least, not for a few months.)

“Didn’t you have enough adventure when you snuck off to travel on your own?” she asks, but she smiles and reaches out to ruffle his hair before he can duck away. “You simply _had_ to fall in love with a banned, renegade mage and unveil a deadly conspiracy to take over the country.”

“I didn’t _have_ to,” he protests, frowning at her. “It just happened.”

“Oh, certainly. It has nothing to do with the readings at your birth-“

He swats at her, and it turns into a play fight that allows him to forget his worries for a short moment. They spend some more time talking, trying to figure out some sort of strategy despite knowing only bits and pieces of the threat against them. Still, Yuuri feels less anxious when he leaves her, aiming to freshen up before meeting his parents at dinner.

It’s just that, when Yuuri returns to his bedroom, he enters to find Viktor sitting on the edge of the bed. He’s shirtless, a frown on his face as he dabs at a wound on his arm.

“Viktor!” he gasps, shutting the door quickly and rushing over to him.

“Solnyshko, I-“

Viktor winces in pain as Yuuri all but throws himself at him, a sheepish look on his face when he leans back.

“A broken rib, I think,” Viktor tells him, and Yuuri sinks to his knees before him.

“I’m sorry, you’re hurt and I wasn’t thinking-“

Shaking his head with a small smile, Viktor reaches out to touch his cheek gently.

“Only a few scratches, no need to worry.”

“How couldn’t I? Yuri told me about what happened.”

Yuuri places his hand over Viktor’s on his cheek, glancing over his body to search for more injuries. There are a few more scratches aside from the gash on his arm, and there’s a bruise blooming at his side. Viktor sighs, his hair a mess and his missing clothes in a heap on the tiled floor in front of the fireplace. He looks strained, Yuuri’s chest clenching in a mixture of relief and the worry that still coils inside him.

“Is your family alright?” Viktor asks, biting his lower lip. “I meant to go to them, but Josef caught up with me and I had to fake my own death a few times…”

He trails off as Yuuri’s eyes widen in horror, grimacing a bit.

“It’s not as bad as it sounds.”

“I can’t believe that Josef is trying to kill you,” Yuuri whispers, free hand tracing the swelling over Viktor’s ribs. “I should have never let you go.”

“Ah, well. Business as usual. So, your family?”

“As usual?” Yuuri repeats incredulously, standing up again though unsure why. “How many times have you fought with him? Why haven’t you _told_ me?”

“It’s barely happened since you and I met.”

“Barely?!”

“Yuuri,” Viktor sighs, reaching for his hand again and frowning when Yuuri takes a step back, rising from the bed to follow him. “It hasn’t been an issue.”

“I brought you into the same room as someone who wants you dead and gave him a chance to go through with it!”

He pauses to breathe harshly, closing his eyes, fists curling until his nails dig into his palms. When Viktor reaches for him this time he doesn’t rear back, instead melting into his arms with a shudder.

“You didn’t know,” Viktor mumbles into his ear, rubbing soothing circles onto his back. “Which is no one’s fault but my own.”

Viktor is warm, too warm almost. Yuuri buries his nose in his neck, mindful of the sharp edges of his crown. There are so many things he wants to say and ask, and yet he fears the answers to his questions. He draws in a deep breath, steeling himself. He trusts Viktor, but how well does he know him, really?

“What else don’t I know?” he asks quietly, feeling Viktor stiffen against him. “Why would you tell me there’s no reason you’d be harmed?”

“I’ve become careless,” Viktor admits after a few seconds of silence. “Please, don’t blame yourself for anything.”

“No, I’m the one who’s been careless,” Yuuri tells him, voice quivering as he clutches Viktor closer. “It’s no secret how I feel for you, and now you suffer for it.”

“Yuuri, no.” Viktor cups his face in both hands, thumbs stroking along his cheekbones as he tries to meet Yuuri’s eyes. “None of this is your fault. If anything, you’re the reason I’m alive at all.”

“I don’t want to marry Chris.” The words come out hoarse, his throat thick with tears threatening to spill. “And I don’t plan to. If Josef tries to harm you again I’ll kill him myself.”

“Oh, Yuuri.” Viktor knocks their foreheads together, an anguished smile on his face as he wipes at Yuuri’s tears. “I only want you to be safe.”

“And do you think I’ll be safe if Josef gets what he wants?”

“We’ll think of something.”

Pushing Viktor away, Yuuri angrily wipes at his wet face.

“Why are you disagreeing with me? Should I just let Chris win the tournament and marry him and hope for the best?”

“Surely you must know that no one will allow you to marry someone else.”

Yuuri stares at him, hurt ripping through his chest. He’d expected Viktor to agree with him, to assure him they would find a way – not this resigned sadness in his eyes.

“And surely _you_ must know that I’ve never wanted to marry anyone but you in my entire life.”

Viktor swallows, a helpless smile curving his mouth, as if he already gave up. As if he wouldn’t interfere. As if he puts Yuuri’s _safety_ above love.

“Viktor Nikiforov,” he says, slowly, voice lowering dangerously as he closes the distance again, wishing Viktor wore a shirt so he could grab it and _shake_ him. “If you don’t wish to marry me, tell me so now.”

“I could never tell you that,” Viktor whispers, lips trembling as he speaks. “But you deserve-“

“I _want_ you.”

Mouth thinning into a line, Viktor stays silent.

“I know I shouldn’t,” Yuuri continues, close enough now that he can feel Viktor’s breath and the heat from his body. “I know I shouldn’t have looked for you, or lied to you about who I am, and made you think I was the right person for you. But I did and I can’t even make myself regret it.”

“I don’t want you to regret it,” Viktor tells him, hands finding Yuuri’s hips underneath his heavy cloak. “We already had this argument.”

“All I do is hurt you.”

“Absolutely not.” His hands squeeze Yuuri’s hips before dragging upwards, reaching his waist and tugging at the fine fabric he’s dressed in. “Never say that again.”

There’s heat in Viktor’s voice now, his touch burning Yuuri’s skin through his clothes. There’s a heavy lump clogging up his throat, a tingling in his fingertips that is only calmed when he places his palms on Viktor’s chest, feeling his breaths underneath them.

“Yuuri, love. We can’t undo the past.”

“I don’t believe it’s as she told me.” He inhales, slowly letting the air leave his lungs again. “Look me in the eye and tell me Minako-sensei is right about you.”

“I’m not sure what she said.”

Yuuri fixates him with a scowl, fingers curling against Viktor’s chest.

“She told me that you used dark magic to create a crystal, and I guess it’s the same kind that Josef is having Georgi make now, and that you killed Yakov by accident when you were discovered.”

Something like anguish passes over Viktor’s pale face, his shoulders slumping as he heaves a deep sigh. For a second, Yuuri fears he’ll confirm Minako’s words.

“No, I didn’t,” he says, frowning, “but Yuuri-“

“Then I don’t understand what the problem is.”

“The problem is that everyone _believes_ I did,” Viktor almost shouts, frustrated as he takes a step back and pushes his fingers through his hair. “Don’t you see? No one believed me then and they won’t believe me now.”

“I believe you.”

Yuuri closes the distance again, the back of Viktor’s legs bumping against the bed. He takes Viktor’s cheeks in both hands, forcing him to meet his eyes.

“I’m not going to let Josef get away with his plan, and I’m not going to let people keep smearing your name like this. Trust me? Just this once, Viktor, _please_.”

“It’s not that I don’t trust you,” Viktor says after a small pause, and there’s something ugly and bitter in the way his mouth twists up at the corner. “I simply don’t dare to hope.”

There are many things Yuuri wants to say to that, but they all die on his tongue. Instead he keeps looking into Viktor’s eyes, stubbornly keeping his face between his hands, though the resignation emanating from him never fades.

“Sit,” he says after a long moment, heart clenching when Viktor grimaces as he does as told.

He takes the medical pouch that Viktor must have found in his bathroom, digging out a clean rag and pouring disinfectant on it as he once again kneels before him. It’s a shame he can’t call for one of the castle’s doctors, though he thinks he can handle a few simple gashes.

“Has it ever occurred to you,” he starts slowly as he dabs at the wound, Viktor valiantly attempting to hide a wince as he dabs a little too hard, “that you mean more to me than other people’s beliefs?”

“It has.”

“And?” Yuuri prompts, finding his composure again through the repeated motion, focusing on Viktor’s arm so he won’t feel the urge to shake him again.

“And you’re the prince,” Viktor says lightly, as if that is the end of the discussion.

It would be, if Yuuri had any intention of doing what is expected of him. He can’t remember a single instance that revealed itself to him during his life where he consciously made the decision, but it’s always been there, somewhere in the back of his mind. _Why marry Chris when you could marry Viktor?_ If he had to get married, it might as well be the person he couldn’t stop thinking about. And so he’d at least made a conscious decision to _find_ Viktor, and see for himself if he really was worth mooning over when there were other, much less controversial choices for him to make.

“I can always quit being a prince,” he mutters, wiping the wound a final time before grabbing some bandages from the pouch.

When he looks up, Viktor’s eyes are closed. There’s something strained over his features, and it strikes Yuuri that it’s been a long time since he saw him truly carefree. It’s Yuuri’s fault, naturally. Viktor was perhaps not _happy_ before he found him, but he didn’t have the lines of worry etched into his face that made him look older than his age. His heart twinges uncomfortably, and he traces the lines under one eye with a thumb, wishing his magic could perform miracles.

“I’m yours,” he whispers, and Viktor lets out a hitched little breath. Yuuri’s thumb moves to his parted lips, throat raw and chest heavy. “And even though I should let you go, even though I _tried_ , I’ll forever think of you as mine.”

“Good,” Viktor exhales, and Yuuri kisses his mouth, once, twice. “I wouldn’t be myself, otherwise.”

Outside, the first lightning of storm season strikes.

 

･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*☆

 

When Yuuri came of age, he insisted on completing the same journey all mage apprentices made in order to be accepted into the ranks of the mage order upon return. As the prince, Yuuri was exempt from such a dangerous journey, but he had his reasons – and perhaps he left with only a note to explain his absence. One reason was the highly selfish wish of meeting a certain person, whom his heart could not forget. And, as most selfish wishes go, this one was granted at the least flattering moment.

Walking through the ancient forests below Mount Fuji, Yuuri was starting to realize that he was most likely lost. He’d been foolish to enter, yet urged on by rumors and now it seemed he would pay the prize for his foolishness. Shadows began creeping up on him underneath the tall trees as the day started coming to an end, and he shivered in his thin robes. He should unpack his cloak but something made him keep walking, deeper and deeper with no sense of direction. Almost as if called by a silent song he kept up pace, the path growing smaller with each step.

“I would turn back if I were you.”

Startled by the voice coming seemingly out of nowhere, Yuuri stumbled on a root and fell to the ground. As he hit the dirt path it was as if his mind cleared, and he blinked away the lingering fog attempting to cloud his thoughts.

“Oh,” he said, and then, as he turned and saw the man behind him, “ _oh_.”

Viktor Nikiforov – for it could only be him – stared back with slight amusement in his blue eyes. He looked much older than Yuuri remembered, of course, but also surprisingly young.

“Are you alright?” he asked, holding out a hand to help Yuuri back on his feet.

“I,” Yuuri started, faltering as words failed him.

Before he disappeared, Yuuri had thought Viktor the most beautiful person in existence. He still was, in his humble opinion, though the long and flowing silver hair had been cropped to his ears, fringe falling over one side of his face as Viktor tilted his head.

“You?” he teased, crouching down to eye-level and raising both eyebrows, most likely making fun of what a mess Yuuri was.

“I guess you saved me,” Yuuri mumbled eventually, averting his gaze.

Embarrassment burned hotly on his cheeks, but Viktor reached out to lift his chin with one elegant finger, which only served to make the feeling worse.

“I guess I did,” Viktor said, and as they locked eyes, Yuuri felt his heart lurch painfully in his chest. “Now, up you go before the fairies decide to try their tricks on both of us.”

“I should have been more observant,” he sighed as Viktor helped him up, hand warm around Yuuri’s. “My head was in the clouds.”

“I’m sure the clouds are more pleasant than this place,” Viktor joked, and Yuuri ended up standing much too close to him. “Come, I was in the middle of preparing dinner when you wandered by.”

Viktor urged him off the path, sure on his feet as he led Yuuri away from danger. He felt torn between elation and deepest regret, following Viktor’s broad back through the semi-darkness. His wish had been granted, but not at all how he imagined it. There was simply no way he could tell Viktor who he was, after a first meeting like this.

Eventually they reached a small cottage looking severely out of place between the looming trees, smoke rising through the chimney and flowers blooming by the stone steps leading to the front door.

“Do you live here?” Yuuri blurted out as he waited for Viktor to open the door.

“Not quite,” Viktor said, holding it open for him. “But I ended up here for now.”

Well, that explained the rumors he had heard, at least. He should feel ashamed for having journeyed not to find adventure and seek to help others, but to meet _Viktor_ , and yet as he sat down by the fireplace he couldn’t find it in him.

“Dinner won’t take long,” Viktor told him, and Yuuri tried his best not to stare as Viktor puttered about the sparsely decorated cottage.

The last time they were in the same room, Yuuri had been a mere twelve-year-old boy, peeking at Viktor across the throne room. He could remember Mari nudging him, as if Yuuri had any chance of paying attention whenever Viktor was nearby. It was silly to think about in hindsight, puppy love born from Minako-sensei’s teasing.

_If you’re not careful with your studies, Yuuri, you might have to marry someone like Viktor when you’re old enough._

It hadn’t seemed like such a terrible idea, at the time.

“Here,” Viktor said, handing him a bowl of soup that smelled divine. “It’s not much, but then I wasn’t precisely expecting a visitor.”

“I don’t mind,” Yuuri mumbled, blowing shyly on the too hot soup.

He could feel Viktor’s stare, and yet he didn’t dare meet it now.

“I’m Viktor,” he added, and then turned to make himself a bowl as well. “But you might already know me through my reputation.”

The smile didn’t quite reach his eyes, and Yuuri wanted to reach over and smoothen out the tension on his beautiful face.

“No,” Yuuri lied, and saw the tension slowly fade away. “I’m afraid I don’t.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, Josef really is evil, hmm? Who knows what he's planning to do to them! And then there's Yuuri's level of thirst which is just infinite levels of high haha... Please let me know what you thought of the chapter<3

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Next chapter, we'll see if Yuuri's ominous feelings are correct... 
> 
> You can find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/katsudonforever) and [tumblr](http://fangirlandiknowit101.tumblr.com/) <3


End file.
